


Two Morans

by ohsodirnty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 11:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohsodirnty/pseuds/ohsodirnty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100% inspired by this post:<br/>"Jim wakes up to two Morans in his kitchen."<br/>http://yoohoopuddin.tumblr.com/post/37863052971/severin-jim-wakes-up-to-two-morans-in-his</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Morans

Sebastian wakes to a hammering heart, tight throat and a cold sweat, then he realises, it’s the front door he can hear.  
Glancing around, Jim is still asleep, thank fuck. He slips out of the covers and traipse down stairs, yanking his jeans up as he goes.  
Front door flung open with a less than happy expression, baseball bat clutched in his hand; half expecting some ass hole who thinks he owns them money. If it was someone for Jim, they’d have broken in by now. What he didn’t expect, clearly, was to see his brother stood there, freshly shaven, but looking lagged, a carry on case in hand.  
“I’m fucking glad to see your ugly face,”  
“Get in-“ He sighs, lowering the bat and opening the door wider.

*

Waking to a dull, sun-lit room, the first thing Jim notices is the lack of another body in the bed next to him. Then then cold greets him. He waits, listening. For a moment, considering that Sebastian is making breakfast, or at least a cup of tea. But no, there are voices. Distinctly, two voices, talking to each other; a laugh, followed by _“Ssh!”_  
With a sigh, he slips out from the covers, pulling on Seb’s discarded shirt, the hem reaching his thighs, the scent of washing powder, soap, aftershave, all mix and linger for a moment.  
Pyjama pants pulled on, and dressing gown in the process of being tied around his slim form, the Irishman wanders down the flight of the stairs to what had woken him. The kitchen door is pulled to the jam, but not fully shut, conversation still in full swing.  
Jim pushes the door open. Clearing his throat, the conversation dies and Severin faces him, the warm grin on his lips more _not-Sebastian_ than the lack scars. Sebastian shifts in the corner, toast in hand, he takes a bite, chewing slowly. Jim raise a brow.  
“Didn’t think of making a drink for your boss?”  
“I was just about to boil the kettle again if-“ Jim holds up a hand,  silencing Severin, his dark eyes not leaving his righthand man.  
“What’s he doing here?” He drawls.  
“He means hello.” Sebastian is quick to correct, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.  
“Or piss off." Severin adds. 


End file.
